


Urge Sinister

by Pathologies



Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (IDW Comics), Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles - All Media Types
Genre: Body Horror, Drug Use, Gen, Multi, Original Characters - Freeform, Pain, Shootouts, Suspense, Thriller, deserted locations, future shipping, mutanimals - Freeform, other gangs, post tmnt idw issue 50, we're still in the state of new york though thank god
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-06
Updated: 2018-06-25
Packaged: 2018-08-19 19:36:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 12,213
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8222440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pathologies/pseuds/Pathologies
Summary: Old Hob is traveling out of town with the gang to find a new scientist for the team...unfortunately this may mean one long night for the Mutanimals, if they make it to the morning alive.





	1. Gangland, Buffalo

With only the light of the truck as her eyes, the highway at night gained a kind of symmetry. It had the kind of precarious symmetry between speeding illumination and the disappearing blackness that whipped past them. The structure of night driving empowered her with the feeling that she could continue forever, maybe until she became nothing but eyes staring into the whipping headlights of forever.

 

His feet on the dash broke her concentration. She elbowed Hob's legs without once taking her hands off ten and two or her eyes off the road.

 

“Watch it,” his voice had the quality of a smoker that never once opened a pack. His head never moved off the recline of the seat as he looked up at the ceiling, “Five hours and I'm just startin' to get comfortable.”

 

“We're not exactly comfortable here,” the token human Lindsey murmured as she shifted from her half-awake position.

 

“I would like to say I do agree,” a larger mutant near her whispered in a strained placating voice, “But I do need to remind you Pete just got to sleep and I'd rather not have him wake up before we get there.”

 

“I'll have everyone reminded,” Hob waved his hand in an imaginary symphony, “Not letting me sleep is gonna be the real crime here. Cause I'll just have to keep everyone awake here.”  
  
“Hob,” Sally's paws flexed against the wheel, “I got the wheel. So that means every passenger ass depends on me to keep them alive. You're making it very hard when you keep yammering on!”  
  
A meek voice peered behind the both of them, “I really wouldn't want to die like this. Other ways, maybe. But not going down a dark road.”  
  
Sally groaned. Back to the road. An hour to Buffalo. Things began to settle with the passengers in the back going back to that daze long car rises create in people. Man Ray hunched over like a big rag doll. Lindsey curled up like a doll cocoon. Seymour just leaning over nervously, twiddling his thumbs. Herman stares out the back like he sees an invisible war. Only two truly at peace were Mondo and Pete, Mondo splayed over Pete in a move that had no awareness on his part.

 

It was getting colder, specially upstate. Snow gave the road and the surrounding world an eerie silence. What was Hob thinking? She had the wheel but even now she fleet like Hob was backseat driving. It felt like that ever since Slash and Mikey left, the two sweetest peas leaving and splitting in a way so bitterly sad. And it was all Hob's fault, she knew that. The rest of them like Hob too much to call him out on it. But she knew. She wasn't afraid to challenge him. She may be the only one who wasn't.

 

All of them filed out of the van, bundled and shivering and wishing they got more rest after that six hour drive. They all wore clothing borrowed from Lindsey's relatives. It would be a nightmare finding anything for Slash, Sally thinks as she trails off in thought.

 

A gecko scrambles out of the trailer with his 'Suburban Lawns' hoodie (one of the few items not belonging to Lindsey and kin). “Warn a guy before he passes out on the bird, alright? Dude smells.”

 

Pigeon Pete pokes his head out, “Hi! I'm Pete! Are we at the theme park yet?”

The eyepatched cat heckled with a throaty laugh, “No. Don't think so. No see, me and the humie...”

 

Hob gestures for Lindsey to raise an exhausted hand, “Went through records Stockman left behind before his oh-so premature retirement. And turns out Stocky had a bad habit of giving mutagen handouts. Imagine who.”  
  
“Is it Pete?” asked Pete.  
  
Ignoring he continued, “A clown called Doctor Olivander, Looks like he likes mutagen as much as the next scummy Shredder. But see.” His confident planning voice began to switch gears, “But we're going to be smart about this time. I'm lookin' to make him a partner if you know what I mean.” He rolls his head back in a toothy grin, “Hear that Lindsey? You may get a partner!”  
  
Lindsey dripped enthusiasm with her hunched stare at the ground.

 

The van had pulled into the edge of Buffalo, close enough to get a look at the lake in the distance but far enough for them to watch the rushing lights of the downtown traffic in the distance. Looked to be an industrial part of town, many factories and warehouses that were leftover from a few decades over. Many of these buildings, including the bigger factory with a soapy blue and caked down words, seemed to have been long abandoned if the welcoming broken wood fence had anything to say. The rest of the buildings shut down for the rest of the night, windows blacked out and empty. The snow around them was a whiteboard sneaking on the world.

 

“So are we meeting him here?” Lindsey asked.

 

Hob marched round in the snow, rolling his shoulders, “...yeah and no. We're parking here. Can't exactly visit out of town with a van full of mutants, right?”  
  
Man Ray shook off the last of his sleepiness, packing in his head with a big cap and his overcoat, “For once, Hob, you may be right. Going by foot may be a safe strategy.”  
  
“Unless we accidentally walk into gangland.” Sally already scoped out the area. In the blue factory, whose use had gone long ago, its black windows seemed to suggest something shuddering, like the blackness itself sought form.

 

Hob smiled, already loading a magnum from his overcoat, “Then good thing we're in a gang, huh? I'm taking Olivander whether by my silver tongue or silver bullet.”  
  
“I just want all of us to live.”  
  
Pete already perched on a fence, waving at the factory.

 

“Yo, Pete, you talkin' to imaginary friends again?”  
  
“Hi!” he waved without breaking eye contact from the building, “There's someone there guys!” Several of his feathers went out of place, scattering in mid air.

 

Man Ray turned around. Mondo Gecko didn't move. The seconds didn't start until the side mirror blew off the van. The gecko tackled Pete to the ground Seymour, who was making his move out of the van, scrambled back inside with Lindsey and a thrown Pete rushing back in.

The ground opened up with holes, air whizzed past Hob's ear, the dashboard glass shattered from impact. Herman backed up with his arsenal, “Alright boys, let's take defensive maneuvers show 'em no quarter!”  
  
Hob ducked by the fence post, firing towards the factory windows. Man Ray, back by the van had slipped a rifle from the trunk and began firing towards the building. Sally took the offensive by crouching in a bank of snow and firing with her own pistol from a back pocket. Mondo just cowed by another fence post, defenseless. It was a jazz quintet of metal blasting. The noise alone would wake up anyone who wasn't in this now deserted industrial town.

 

With no signal or sign from anyone, the music ceased. Their attacker stopped, if they wanted to start at all.

 

Sally got up, brushing the snow off, “...they were sniping. But they didn't hit us.”  
  
Hermann growled, “They're a pretty lousy shot.”

 

“No...I think they were letting us know they knew we're here. Like they were expecting us.”  
  
Hob kicked around the empty rounds in the snow, grinning, “Welcome to gangland, Buffalo.”

 

Man Ray signaled from behind the van, “Looks like our sniper may not be human. I saw something run off from the factory...it's certainly got size on its side.”

 

Seymore shuddered, shaking his brain appendage, “Let's get out of here, it isn't worth it anymore.”

 

“You know...” Mondo Gecko brushed the snow off him, “This is getting real weird guys.”  
  
The rest of the gang could see the gears clicking into place in that dim pupil of Hob's. He reloaded from the trunk, stuffing the gun into his waistband as he walked off following with his arms raised up.

 

Man Ray and Sally motioned the rest of them to the car, Sally already starting up the van and following Hob. The cat had already began calling out, “It's alright, brother! I'm a mutant just like you!” This was irrational, but he had to try and coax the creature out. “You can join us, I promise you, it can be real cozy. We got all kinds of things any mutant needs...”  
  
It was in open air, this road between all these factories. He was right in the middle of the mouth and the empty buildings loomed like ragged molars. Sally and Man Ray knew this. “Get back in the car,” she hissed.

 

Hob glanced back with a shrug, waving them off. He didn't need them, leave him be. The van continued following them down the road until...

 

“There it is.” Hob saw it. Big tracks. Definitely not human. He scooped the snow of the footprint in his hand before rising, “I see ya, so just show yourse--”

 

His neck stung.

 

Sometimes you can sense something on you, a tiny sensation. But it's only when you touch the source of the sting you realize it's something much worse.

 

It's only when Hob touched his neck he managed to pull back...a dart?

 

He fell for the worst trick. He didn't think anything beyond that. He pulled out a gun as he began firing into the blackness, into the snow. But the thing about blacking out is, it isn't a slow fade. One moment you're pulling a limited number of rounds and--

 


	2. Premature Acquisition

He expected to smell something slimy and dank, as though their captors dragged them into the industrial afterlife, the domain of some overtime construction Hades. What hit him instead was tangy, like the sweetness oozed into the carpet around him and got into his nose. It wasn't like candy or fruit no, this was the result of someone steam-cleaning the industrial-grade carpeting beneath his feet for sure. For one thing the chair under him had soft enough padding even if the wood under his arms felt a little too hard.

 

His eyes opened all at once, just like waking right up from a dreamless sleep This wasn't any steel or brick warehouse where somebody dumped you to die. No he found himself sitting with plenty of carpet , carpet going up the walls. On the wall was a corkboard with plenty of bulletins pinned, showing their age. Anyone else would think this was an elementary school.

 

Another thing: other people waited with him. All of them had some chrome mask on, like the ones found in a cheap Halloween store. Hob didn't take the time to ask questions, he immediately lunged toward the nearest chromedome. The poor coward saw that open maw of prickly teeth and claws, instantly shouting “Dear god get this thing away!”  
  
Hob didn't get far. He didn't even get an inch. His legs and ankles were strapped down by what felt like some expert velcro.

 

“They're tied down, aren't they?” A voice sounded like syrup coming down over bread came in the lobby, “You just have to make sure they don't run away. Maybe use the darts I gave you, duh?”  
  
Hob's senses opened up a little more. The rest of his gang were also strapped down, coming to and struggling. All but Pete who looked pretty content to be there.

 

But the voice, the syrupy voice belonged to a bronzed man with a choppy haircut. His suit was big, an off-white all over with strange leather straps forming an asterisk over his face. He looked like someone peering from a window with that mask. But he smiled nonetheless, “Aha, the zoo's waking up. Good, I was worried I'd have to babysit this bunch.”  
  
“Seem to have a lot of faith in your bunch.” Hob found his tongue back.

 

“They're not mine, I just work here.” seemed like this stranger lobbed some fencing sword over his shoulder.

 

Sally groaned, finally back to life, “What are we doing here?”

 

“We have an appointment. My boss is waiting so let's get going before we waste more time.”  
  
The chrome masks looked hesitant to get them on their feet.

 

Asterisk-face sighed, “Oh right.” His pocket gave up a tiny box as he opened it and dumped a group of average pills, “Come and get it!”  
  
It was something else. Those chrome masks scrambled to the floor, shoving the drugs in their mouths as they waited for it to take effect in what...seconds? In mere seconds they seemed completely different, docile. Not like they were brainwashed, but like they just didn't care.

 

“Thaaat's it,” asterisk-face chuckled, “Now get them moving.”  
  
“Eerie,” whispered Man Ray, “It's like those pills—urgh!” One chrome mask shoved him to your feet, “This isn't the best form of hospitality.”

 

“Aww c'mon man can't you let me catch up with my snoozes?” but unfortunately these chrome maskes cared only about shoving Mondo along with his arms tied behind his back.

 

Hob saw what they did to everyone: take everything but their natural weapons. Guns and knives gone. Herman's armory nothing more than an empty trash bin. Mondo Gecko with no board. Seymour and Lindsey, they might as well be trapped . All of them carried a look with some form of their mental wheels turning, looking for a means to escape. Except Pete. Pete look blissfully happy to come along, even if his restraints were a little tight.

 

The manta ray mutant sidled up to Hob as best he could, “I think we may delay any plans for escape at the moment until we get a better layout of the building. Running blind could get us into a trap...”  
  
That was Man Ray for you. A quiet kind of guy, but mutant made for strategy. He sighed. As much as he liked breaking out...”You're right. You do that layout stuff so we know where to shoot.”

 

A sharp nudge sent him reeling forward, the chrome masks obviously seeing their whispers. But looking back at Man Ray, what did he see? Concern? Why not? They're all mutants right? That's what makes Sally look after both Mondo and Pete. But yet, there was something in those eyes...he can't place it yet.

 

But there wasn't anymore time to think. They soon got pushed into a small auditorium, the kind for conferences and the like. A projector screen hung down, bearing a red and white pill symbol in a circle.

 

“I like the design,” said Sally as she got escorted to a chair, “Just gets the unoriginal point across while losing any intimidation.”  
  


“Please,” scoffed asterisk head on the raised platform, “We're not aiming for intimidation. My boss requested to meet with all of you personally.”  
  
With a wave of his hand, the chrome masks cut their velcro bonds loose. Hob was ready to slash the throat of the nearest guy but Man Ray stayed his hand. Not yet.

 

All of their attention came to the screen as they saw a face appear. Not a face. A helmet. It looked like a modern kind of helmet almost cubical with grooves in the front curving into the side.

 

“I'm liking this,” Hob said, his voice burning with poisonous sarcasm, “We get a nice nap, good bracelets, and now we get to talk to your boss the toaster.”  
  
“Hi toaster!” a wing shook, “I'm Pete!”

 

The voice sounded like a cold that had a face, an face wizened by years behind a desk. “The circumstances behind your invitation here were much harsher than necessary...Crosses, I believe I promised Stockman that our guests would be treated with care and gentility.”  
  
The asterisk-face shrugged, “Tranqs don't hurt. Nothing I did hurt! I kept your word.”

 

“O-on-on the contrary,” Seymour the Mutagen Man raised a nervous hand, “I would argue that what you did actually did in fact. Hurt.”  
  
Silence, “I'll have to subtract from your own prescription, Crosses. But that's not important now. I want to devote my energies to my guests.”  
  
Sally ignored the niceties, “So what I'm getting is you guys set up a real nice operation...you got mooks, you got a base, you even got a leader with a helmet.”  
  
“They're a bonna-fide Foot!”  
  
A chuckle came from the projector, “You are correct, my lizard guest! We...were fascinated by the stories of the Foot clan. Personally me and Dr. Olivander were inspired by their hierarchy of organization. But then again, we also heard of you...the Mutanimals.”  
  
Hob leaned forward, “Hold on, Dr. Olivander is here?”  
  
A voice like a bristle brush came in through the back door, “Yeah I'm here.” They were shocked to find Olivander...different.

 

He wore doctor scrubs of course, but it was his head that was different. One horn bloomed gentle into a fine flower of an elk horn. The other half of his face had become melted liquid of that same material now crystalized over the half of his face. It seemed as though an elk horn had grown a long plaster middle-aged face.

 

“Hey Doctor Olivander...” Hob did his best to seem his sly, relaxed self, “We been looking for you...you know, I got a job offer for you.”  
  
“Ironic,” the screen said, “We actually have one for you.”  
  
“Run that by us again?” asked Man Ray.

 

“I wish to expand Seer's operations into other parts of New York. You would be...an offsite branch in business terms. You could even have Olivander on your team and keep the name, but you would be affiliated with Seer officially.”  
  
“In...official and unofficial terms,” Hob's trying very hard to parse this information into something he can pick at, “What does that mean for us.”  
  
Olivander joined in, “You'll be taking orders from the boss. His interests are your interests.”  
  
“What are those, pray tell?” Man Ray asked.

They could almost hear the smile under the helmet, “Mutagen is a market. And sooner or later it will end up with big pharmaceuticals. I went over the data Stockman gave. The potential drug patents alone will send them scrambling for this material.”  
  
Hob frowned. Almost everyone frowned in unison as if by cue. All but Pete who seemed distracted by the helmet. Sally growled, “Sounds like you just want it for yourself.”  
  
He sighed, “The mutagen market is going to happen despite anyone's well wishes. Seer is only stepping ahead and taking control so it doesn't fall into the wrong hands. Because trust me, it will fall into the wrong hands.”  
  
Hob shot up, “Sounds to me it's in the wrong hands already.”  
  
“If you really cared,” argued Sally, “You'd get rid of the mutagen altogether.”

 

“There's other applications for the mutagen,” Lindsey added, “Safer, less deadly ones. Ultimately I think...it should be left up to mutants to decide what's to be done with it.”

 

Hob added, “Enough mutants have suffered with that crap. I don't want anymore suffering. Like that big guy you're hiding.”  
  
Olivander scoffed, “Did we really come all this way to listen to a rabid limp pack of Berkley dropouts give their socialist manifesto?”

 

“We ain't working for you,” scoffed Hob.

 

Silence. Silence from Olivander. Silence from Crosses. Silence from the boss. The boss sighed, “Olivander, don't stress yourself out. Our friends are working for us. I thought I'd give them the choice of where to work. But they've given up that right.”

 

“What makes you think we'd work for you dude? I'm not exactly a tie and suit kind of mutant.”  
  
“Oh for god sakes--” Olivander reached for something in his pocket as he swooped in to grab Peet by the wings with a distressed squawk.

 

“Pete!” Lindsey tried going after him before she recoiled from what burst in through the door. It barely fit. Hobs could recognize their friend from the factory in clearer detail now. He could see the quills covering its hulking body, its intense eyes as it burst forth almost silently to pluck Seymour with his own arms. “Uh help!” the Mutagen Man cried out, “Help!”  
  
Man Ray rushed towards the hulking beast. But he could see Hob reaching out to him, “No wait! You don't need to fight us! They're just using you!”

 

He saw the porcupine didn't care. A massive fist came swinging for Hob's face, Man Ray had to push him to the ground to get him out of the way.

 

Not only did they have those two to worry about, but they had the stubborn mooks swarming them now. Hob noticed they were in the dozens. That being said, Mondo put up good quarter along with Herman, putting in fists and claws with each attack.

 

But already Olivander was getting away with Pete. “Goddamn boss don't pay me enough for this,” he muttered—stay still!”  
Sally tried to yank Pete out of his arms before Olivander desperately pushed back and squeezed into the door behind him. Locked.

 

And they still had a fierce mutant to contend with. If only Slash was with them...Man Ray was trying to go fist-to fist with them. The manta bobbed and swayed, avoiding his fists with a duck and swipe across the floor. He managed to get an uppercut to the creature's jaw once which almost seemed to sway him wth a woozy stumble...until a fist made contact with Man Ray's face.

 

Man Ray staggered, trying to keep his footing as he shuddered from the onslaught of pain. Too much. Blood was leaking from his nose. He hit the ground, already spinning out from the waking world. Hob felt himself hit a chord when his compatriot hit the floor. “Ray!” he ran to him, grasping the mutant now passed out.

 

“Ray!” Sally knelt to his side, looking for signs of vitals. Still alive at least. But that wasn't good enough. Hob shook him, “Come on, come on wake up!”  
  
“Uh guys...” but Mondo faltered. Their friend's hurt mattered far more. The mutant fled back where he came, making Hermann hit his claws against the door, “This is...a heavy loss.”  
  
They expected more fighting but the chrome masks seemed to be on standby

 

“That's enough” the screen said, “We're not some operation that's a front for aliens or a group of thugs. You won't win treating my employees like refuse. Seer is a company, you can't destroy what I built with my own hands. If you want your friend to receive medical attention, then you will let yourselves be marched back into you respective rooms.”  
  
This was bad...Man Ray wasn't all of their thinking power, but he was the guy that thought things through. With him gone, they had more of a challenge than before.

 

Hob sighed and whispered, “I'll get you out of here.” before raising his hands,, “You just know how to get everybody to your side don't ya?”

 

Silence before, “This concludes this meeting.” The screen went black.  
  
Sally heaved a sigh of revulsion, keeping close to Lindsey, Lindsey who was all but lost and frightened in this whole thing. None of them knew where they were in Buffalo. They might as well be miles from the van if it was still around. Together all of them would be marched separately to unknown parts of this dinky hideout. But Old Hob was convinced they would escape and meet each other again, real soon.  
  


 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Looks like things are getting bad for the Mutanimals. Where it goes from here? Whatever it is, it can't be good.


	3. Vague Certainties

Mondo Gecko called him Seymour as in Seymour Gutz. He held onto that name like a locket that dangled around his neck...if his neck wasn't more than a brain-stem. And his life seemed to dangle just as precariously as that locket. Why was he scared? This brute of a mutant was carrying him off to death, most likely. If he died, would it be that bad?

 

But that's what scared him. What if it wasn't death. What if his spiny angel was no angel of death bu an angel of punishment.   
  
His head raced. Supposedly if he dashed himself against the carpet, a carpet just thin enough to conceal the concrete beneath, he could dash the glash of his life-containing ooze all over the floor and he'd be nothing more than a toxic accident. Or or! Or he could fling himself against the window, the force could be enough to break his glass again or the fall if he managed to break through, depending the floor they were on.

 

But...there was a thought far more painful and desperate than these thoughts of escaping a painful fate. What if he never saw his friends again? It could be that this brute was carrying him away just for that, but...doing these actions...would only make that possibility definite.

 

He went limp in those heavy arms, defeated by his own love for his friends. Anything worse would be worth it if he could see Mondo Gecko, Hob, Sally, and the others....

 

Of course, he had to ask, “Wh-where are you talking me?”  
  
This mutant, he had an animistic side. Sure, they all did, but that wasn't it. His eyes seemed heavy, blank, sedate. His voice didn't sound as gruff or heavy as he expected, “My friend, consider yourself the salvation of not only your friends but of the entire future of the human race.”  
  
“I—I beg pardon?”  
  
The mutant hesitated. As though he was an actor that broke character, “I believe you will find out soon enough. You will not die...you're too precious a commodity. And by extension your friends become commodities too.”

 

“We rather not become commodities! We'd rather go home (except Hob who dragged us here) and--”  
  
The porcupine silenced him, “Please. Save your impieties for the office. We are part of something that cannot be ended, it can only be co-opted.”

 

Seymour felt himself slump again. He sighed, “Do you have a name at least?”  
  
Pause, “Yes.”

 

The silence itself felt threatening enough, as though this mutant wasn't going to offer anything else on that matter. The Mutagen Man decided to leave that be, “Oh.”

 

Soon they came across a pair of doors. Steel, locked, and with no windows. “Mutation man...through these doors I expect you to be silent and courteous.”  
  
“Is it going to hurt?”  
More silence. Only the slight rumble of the doors opening offered Seymour any possible vague answer.

 

 


	4. Cruel Hospitality

It's bizarre, how human they acted after such a showy display of cruelty. Hob was allowed to walk beside Man Ray as he got wheeled to another room. It was a conference room or maybe a classroom now. Now it had been outfitted with medical apparatus and a couple nurses. Not exactly a grand hospital type setting. Other goons were laying in bed, strapped down with visions of clear fluid dancing in their veins.

 

Hob wanted out. The only experience he had with these types of rooms had been harsh flashes of pain. Humans jabbing him with instruments, taking notes. His body undergoing excruciating transformation, all making him a hideous spectacle. But he was a guest. He was being escorted. What more, he was being allowed to come along and be updated on Man Ray.

 

It was a hideous display of hospitality, a gruesome mercy.

 

He wanted to stand by. It was his only act of rebellion at the moment. It was strange...why did he feel this way looking at Man Ray knocked out and unconscious? Why did he feel such concern for this mutant? It'd be better to cut his losses and leave but...no. Then he'd have no asset left. And then Seer would win. Why else would he so focused on Man Ray's pain? He knew Seer wanted to break apart his team that he build from scratch, who wouldn't be upset by that?

 

“He'll be fine,” a nurse said, “Just needs to recover from internal trauma.”  
  
“Thanks, didn't need your update.”  
  
It felt like forever waiting, watching an IV of blood go into one arm and an IV of clear fluid occasionally siphon into the other.

 

“What's this you're pumping in him, some of your miracle drug?”  
  
“...not at liberty to say.”

 

Hob saw what the pills did to those people, he wasn't going to wait around for them to do the same to his brains. While the nurses attended to the other patients, Hob sheathed his claws to...slice the IV tube and let it drop to the floor.

 

It had gone successfully for a couple minutes with no nurse noticing. A couple minutes before a nurse walked by the bed, “...this is disconnected. Someone get me a new IV--”  
  
Hob nearly ran the nurse over with Man Ray's bed as he violently wheeled him out of here. The other two nurses tried to form a blockade, only ending with Hob ramming them out of the way.

 

“Comply, find a way out,” Hob's impulsive mind began spinning wheels again, “What a stupid idea.”  
  
Even more dumb that he had no clue where anywhere led. It was hallways with no signs and doors wth no windows. He rushed, keeping his best to be quiet as he heard the nurses pursuing nearby. No doubt the goons had come right in from whatever room they were waiting in.

 

Hob's experience infiltrating Stockgen before came in handy as he found a thinner door than the others. A storage closet. Cramped space with all the equipment and supplies, but it would do.   
  
Hob would have to content himself with closing the door to such an obvious-looking escape and locking the door as he waited for footsteps to pass him by.

 

Minutes later the bed began to shuffle. It was Man Ray, getting out with a bruising face and a hand to hold his own head.

 

“Picked the best time to wake up.”  
  
“Ugh...” Man Ray groaned, “I think they were trying to put me to sleep...if you didn't stop that...they would have given me permanent brain damage. Thank you.”  
  
“You know got everyone's back.”  
  
A pair of big hands only softly grabbed his shirt, “However, I am well aware of the fact that you brought us into this fray in the first place. And by your actions alone you nearly killed me.”  
  
Hob grunted, “Are you that surprised?”  
  
“I expected you to...” Man Ray groaned, slipping to the floor, Hob joining him, “Expected you to show some restraint and critical thinking. You couldn't expect that mutant to have joined us so easily.”  
  
“You don't know that,” Hob countered, “I needed the right time and place...every mutant is comrade.”  
  
Man Ray for the first time looked as though he had been stung, “You're willing to sacrifice my life for it?”  
  
Hob, for the first time in his life, felt the weight of his mouth squeeze him into the ground. What alien sensation made him feel this way? It only made him feel like he was sinking, as though he was being flushed.

 

“Shh shhh shhh,” Hob opened his arms to pat the mutant's back in a strange embrace, “You should save it for when that brain's at one hundred percent. No good if you wasted it because of me.”  
  
Man Ray felt him shudder, frozen by the alien manner of the gesture before he bent in to embrace back. He never considered how Hob made him feel...this mutant he had respect for, a mutant who had goals he could agee with. He saw suffering like no one else and decided to become a leader against all opposing voices from the human world...he never saw that before...

 

“You're right...I still feel you should...”  
  
“Shhhh I know. I do a lot of thngs, Man Ray. Let's just enjoy whatever this is.”  
  
“A hug?”  
  
“Sure.”  
  
Man Ray paused, “...do you think you and I....?”  
“Are in a storage closet? Yes.”  
  


“No...” he sighed, “You've acted strange Hob.”  
  
“I'm always strange,” he grinned, nose just hovering in front of the other mutant's face, “What you gonna do about it?”  
  
“Well...” he thought, “It's clear they'll know we went here. In fact I'm sure theyre waiting for us and that's why we haven't heard anything.”  
  
“Then...that's why when I come out, I'll rain down harder than a hail of nails. For now though, stop wasting my assets.”  
  
Man Ray groaned softly, letting his head rest against Hob's chest. He thought of what that heartbeat might sound like, if it sounded different under the cage of a feral cat...

 

“This is all your doing.”  
  
“Yep.”

 

Man Ray would think of what to add once he gathered back his strength.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As you guess, the next couple chapters are being splint into different character focuses, which I feel gives a better flow to the narrative. And surprise! This is just one of the ships in this story.


	5. Sinister Cafeteria

Everything broke into a chaos of movement in those few moments Sally only managed to get hold of Lindsey. The both of them found themselves escorted by the one named Crosses. Crosses, a man whose swagger was as repulsive as the grimy fencing sword lofted over his shoulder. She hadn't seen where Man Ray or Hob went, just that Man Ray had been hurt by Hob's selfishness. That man liked to call himself leader, but he always seemed to throw everyone else into the line of punches. It didn't mean anything this time, not if that mutant didn't bother listening.

She had to stop thinking about her anger towards the mutant and just focus on Lindsey. Sally stood by the human who looked exhausted and wanted to go home. She didn't blame her. 

Too bad going home wasn't an option now. Unlike last time, this goon was walking all by himself with no extra protection. What kind of game did a guy who calls himself Crosses play? What game did Seer play?

Crosses almost sounded as though he could read their minds, “You won't see your friends...gang pals...commandos...for awhile. But they're alive. We wouldn't waste you guys.”

“And why's that?”

The air was growing colder, it felt like they were getting closer to the outside. He fluttered his hand, “Come on. You're mutants. Shouldn't you be used to being goods? Specially you, you're like...designer goods from that Null--”

“They're not just goods!” Lindsey found a sudden energy rising like a snake, “They're people!”

Crosses stopped, letting his ragged fencing sword touch the ground. That was it before they continued towards the double doors before them. Crosses hummed, “Mhmm. Would it helped if I said we're all goods? Something deep like that?”

Sally felt her head lulling with the weight of annoyance, “Why the bondage outfit?”

More shrugging and handwaving, “There's this old Japanimation with some speedy kid. He had a cool brother with this X theme. Like, x-es on everything. Anyway, he didn't know he was his brother he was just a mysterious racer to him. I wanted to be like that.”

“...you race?” Sally raised a brow.

He opened the door to what was a cafeteria. A big, industrial one for a bunch of coworkers to mingle and eat lunch. But these folks took it and made it something more. Chrome faces gathered round computer towers hastily plugged into the floor with wires spilling across the tile, all screens and terminals with at least one person working on them. And across the room...Sally could see two vans outfitted with plating, repairmen busy at work on hubcaps and hoods. But the most noticeable was a steel blue sports car parked away from the crewmen at work, Sally looked down, their van had to be around here nearby.

She glanced back to Crosses, “Your operation is more organized than I expected.”

“We got small numbers,” he admitted, but our boss has plenty of resources to keep Seer running.

Lindsey glanced around, “You know, I'm not really a mutant or a brilliant scientist so I'm not sure where I fit into all this...”

Cross waved a hand back to the computers, “Pretty sneaky, but no.. Stockman gave my boss enough to let us know about every one of you. We know you worked at StockGen. My boss finds you a very valuable good.”

“What does he want me to do?”

“Lindsey don't,” Sally grabbed her shoulder.

“Lindsey do,” Crosses breathed, “You're going to help synthesize all kinds of drugs. Just like you did at StockGen...or...”

Before she knew it, Sally felt a streak of white hot burning slash across her cheek. Red brewed and dripped from where Crosses cut, but his sword remained exactly where he once left it. She curled her upper lip, ready to tear into the gang lieutenant when Lindsey raised her hands, defeated, “I got it...I got it..;.please...just don't hurt anyone.”

“Then you know what to do.”

Sally felt cowed as she watch her human walk towards a terminal, introducing herself to the crew. She felt protective of the human, the one who atoned for her actions, atoned more than anyone. As such, she owed it to Lindsey to get them all out of this.

She whipped her head back to Crosses, motioning her head to the sports car, “Is that yours?”

“You bet. Made it myself. It's worth more than the juices running inside you, I bet.”

Sally put pressure on your cheek, “So...you're a racer.”

“What about it?”

“I'm a tactical pilot. I've been trained in about every military-grade vehicle. I'm thinking I could beat just an ordinary street racer.”

Scoff, “Takes more than playing video games. Are you trying to win the freedom of your pals in a race? Be Ben Hur?”

“No,” she knew that wasn't a possibility, “I'm just wagering you'll show me the van if I win. Unless you don't think you can win against a mutant.”

Crosses was quiet. He lobbed his sword over his shoulder again, smirking. “Yeah, why not? Thing's under tire locks. You'd be dead if you tried to sneak it out. I can waste you.”

Crosses swayed towards his car, waving towards the crew, “If I don't come back...make sure she doesn't leave short on killing her. Short.”

What had Sally talked into? Lindsey's expression of concern seemed to be asking that, but all Sally could do was grin and give a small thumbs up.

“You,” Crosses said to Sally, "You get the upgrade van.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly got the idea of a Foot clan copycat gang holding their base of operations on a rehab center as an interesting idea, so went why not as the antagonists of the Mutanimals


	6. Oh Lonesome Me

Pete didn't do much to assess the situation. He seemed to be pretty okay with getting dragged off by Dr. Olivander. After all, Hob said he needed ths guy and Pete would do his best to get the doctor to his side.

 

“Hey did I tell you my name was Pete?” that's the fast way to win friends.

 

He growled, “I know. I know the last hundred times your idiot beak opened it's goddamn mouth.”  
  
“Oh...would you believe that I like hot dogs I find on the ground?”  
  
“Yeah, your a filthy winged rat and a basket case mascot.”  
  
This guy knew a lot of his stuff. He knew where they were going, too. Even though the florescents got dim and the hallways got more twisted and turning, this guy just knew where to go.

 

In fact, Pete was so lost in counting the lights he didn't realize they passed into a room until he found himself staring right up at an examination light on an cushioned examination table.

 

Pete slowly got up. It didn't look like a doctor's office. Looked more like a place where the other Mutanimals got together to cook. Sure, there were some stuff he'd recognize from the doctor's office, but it was no doctor's office. A lot filthier too, what with the dark stains here and there he noticed on the floor. But how could anyone miss the stack of antlers? They all got thrown into a corner of the room, dozens by dozens neatly sawed off before thrown into a pile.

 

Pete smelled something gross when he saw fire light up from the doctor's lips. He said, “Now--”  
  
Two chrome masks ran in carrying a bundle of importance between them, “Doctor. We caught this one rushing the hallways in a berserk state. What you need us to do with him, sir?”

 

“Hi Hermann!” Pete waved to no waving back, “How's the nap going?!”  
  
It almost took no time for Olivander to think. This guy was that smart, “Just toss him under there and keep him tied.”

 

The duo unceremoniously dumped the unconscious body in the pot cabinet beneath a counter. He kicked a different cabinet for good measure, “Back to you, you mouth-breathing slacker.”  
  
“You talk like Hob, but with more short words,” Pete watched as tight bonds got thrown over his body, “What's this for?”  
  
“To keep you from running. Hey, like my collection? He nudged his head at the antlers.”

 

“Yes?”  
  
“You'll say anything you garbage swilling turkey,” he muttered, “Since I'm talking to a moron...let me tell you. A mutation and a cancer are the same type of thing. They're both unwanted changes to the body...yet it comes from the body. Like a command from the ship's captain to sink the boat. Doesn't make sense, but it happens to you anyway.”  
  
“Oh...” Pete was getting lost, “Does it hurt?”  
  
“Oh yeah, it does.”

 

Olivander turned back to some part of the kitchen as sound began to start up from the pa and start playing something by Hank Williams, maybe Lost Highway.

 

Olivander began to swing his foot from one end to the other, singing along to the music, “Don't make music like this! You're too much a vagrant to get what I'm saying.”  
  
“Words!”  


He took another drag, “You know, I'm not allowed to kill you...” He was awful close to Pete now, head hanging over the pigeon's. “But if you stay alive and healthy, I don't see why I can't prod around a living corpse like you.”  
  
He yodeled, just as old Hank Williams did, “There's so many drugs...that aren't approved by the FDA...I'm not supposed to...” he trailed off, “I'm gonna take a break, actually. This thing's weighing on my head.”  
  
The doctor dragged a stool, letting the steel loudly screech against the tile before he sat down with a flask from his pocket.

 

Pete said, a little quieter, “That's okay...”  


Olivander took a swig, “So many drugs that aren't legal by FDA standards...for humans anyway. You're not human.” He took in a big laugh, “Then again...it didn't stop me from testing on those bums.”

 

Pete laid unblinking, for the first time unsure of someone's hospitality. He never met someone who felt so wildly unpredictable.

 

He sneered, “Bet you're asking why in god's name I'm telling you this.”  
  
“I'm thinking of my favorite color!”  
  
“...yeah. Tell me when you find out,” he was drinking it fast, “Cause you're not human! You can't testify against me!What are they gonna do, call a pigeon as a witness?” He burst into a spittle of laughter. A least until he slumped over, his tone growing sour, “I'm almost there. Not being human. This mutagen...you won't....” glug glug, “You won't believe what it did to me. Put this...” he felt the framework of antlers covering one part of his face, “Thing on my head...almost worse than any malignant tumor...”

 

“...what's a tumor?” Pete asked innocently.

 

Olivander laughed again, “You're so...so stupid! You're like a kid! With this whole wide-eyed thing like you don't know what's going on. What'd I expect from a pigeon? But you wont have that look once you get done being my test dog...”  
  
He laughed. And laughed again, wiping his mouth as though he wanted to smear the invisible liquid to marinade it in his beard. Olivander felt himself slumping some more, “Help me find the scalpel...I'm...I'm gonna...pump some sleeping....” He stumbled with his hand before finally slumping over the counter, falling asleep.

 

Pete saw what happened, responding, “Are you taking a nap too? Good night Olivander! See you n the morning!”  
  
Pete laid with the straps still on, looking up into the lights as Olivander snoozed by him.

 

***

 

Mondo Gecko never left.

 

He ducked down beneath one of the seats, small enough to do so in the confusion. Not because he was a coward, but because his camouflage allowed him to do it without getting seen.

 

But maybe they did see him.

 

“This is some serious low tide,” he murmured to himself. He was definitely on his own, save the two chrome masks in the area. Maybe he could slip past them...he had to try it out lest he'd end up waiting forever in this auditorium until his friends ended up dead or worse.

 

Mondo trudged on silent footpads past the aisle. Nothing. The backdoor was so close, he could go the way he came. That way was more familiar, more safe...

 

His feet kept their light approach.

 

His heart skipped a beat when he saw it. The one mask nudging the other. Alright maybe they didn't--

 

Mondo met himself with a hail of dart fire. How did they see him?!

 

The gecko didn't have time or capacity to think it through, only to retreat back to the darkness of the asiles, the guards right on his tail.

 

They were on top of him. He could see them looking down on him, guns drawn.

 

The one nudged the other, “What you doing, making me shoot at shit?!”  
  
They shrugged, “I unno, I really thought I saw something...”  
  
AS both left, Mono Gecko felt himself melt from the stress. His tongue flickered out from the excessive heat his stress gave him. He was trapped. Somehow they could see him when he moved around, but yet not when he laid still in plain view.

 

“Aww man...” he whined quietly, “I wish I was as smart as Manny or Lindsey right now...”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Most mad scientist types are written as these suave, listen to classical music types. I figure why not make a mad doctor who's a slob and listens to country? And yeah, I added Mono's part here because it was a little short


	7. Performance Review

Behind the doors was an office, the kind anyone would find in a place like this. It wasn’t the overwhelmingly empty stark dark offices with a mahogany desk that loomed over the visiting party like a spider coming out onto the web. The room looked precariously cramped, with gray almost bleeding from the walls, the desk, the floor. The flourescent lights made it feel like it was a tiny space separated from the rest of time, a gray space with a small figure at his inglorious desk and papers scattered about the top. By this man’s side stood two men, armed with pistols. Seymour felt a tinge of fear seeing the so-called boss. he helmet cut an imposing sheen from the fluorescent reflection as two heavily armed men in suits stood side by side.

“Ah, the mutant. Please, sit.” he pointed to a vacant chair.

With the bigger mutant behind him, Seymour had no choice but to take the simplistic angular chair in front of him. “U-um yes?”

He leaned over the desk, quietly rifling through the papers and dossiers, “Yes I’ve heard much about the current rumors over in Manhattan. I almost couldn’t believe it, the same accident that Olivander had afflicted on us, turning up miles away.”

“I-I don’t know how to explain it...”

“I think I do. Stockman’s research, his company, they were on the verge of something groundbreaking. Olivander managed to pull the information from him before he was terminated for...different reasons.”

“But you don’t really need the mutagen. It’s dangerous.”

“I’m more preemptive. Imagine that compound being synthesized for weaponry, pharmaceuticals, even designer life. We could be supplying big companies. I’m talking military contractors, big pharma.”

“All you want from us is a new way to make money?” His raised pitch betrayed his shocked hurt.

“Think it over. I’m supplying the suppliers. With the mutagen I could end and start wars when they were necessary. I could control the rate of infection and disease based on price alone. Is it no different from what governments do? But see: I’m fair. I only want what’s equal. There’s no better equalizer than the market. It chooses who is the success and the failure. No one can dispute that of all the arbiters...the market is the most equal.”

“Can...can we go home and think it over?”

A hollow laugh, “No. Would you let anyone who has seen your inner operations leave? What you can do is think it over in a room we prepared for you with accommodations.” He motioned to the porcupine, “Choker.”

The mutant lumbered forward, patting the mutant down and aiming to life him when he gave a grim expression to the smaller mutant, “Boss.”

“Hmm? What’s the problem?”

“You need to look at this.” he came forward with an open hand.

He gestured impatiently, “Whatever it is, I can’t see it.” 

That was all the boss of Seer would be allowed to say. Choker lived up this name, grabbing him by the throat. The bodyguards sprung to life as their boss flailed helplessly, fighting and scratching at his attacker’s knuckles. The one who came to his left, Choker sprung his back quills. In the man’s blind judgment, he received a good helping of quills jutting out down all over his body, from his screaming face to his bloody knees. He stumbled back in agony. The other one pulled out their weapon in an attempt to put down the insurrectionist mutant. But their aiming hands were moved just enough with Choker’s free hand that the gun ended the other man’s agony.

Seeing this violence play out like a badly coordinated movie, Seymour knew staying would mean death for himself. He did what he knew was in his best interest: slipping from the door and out the hallway. Out, into what could be more danger. But here meant a gruesome end. Out there, his fate would be better in his hands. So, take it in his hands he will.

Choker remained unknowing of this as he slammed a shoulder against the other attacker, pummeling them into a wall as they staggered back bloody and bruised. There was the final piece of this gruesome puzzle, the weakening man in his hands. With a grunt, Choker wound them up and slammed the boss into the floor.

He drew back, wiping his nose, “Bastard.” Delicately he took off the ornate helmet, “You were too ashamed to see yourself for what you really were.” Beneath that hidden mask laid the face of a raccoon dog. 

“Your dreams die with you, Maxwell. They died when you made me, when I silently put in my dream,” he took a seat, taking out the intercom in his desk, “Employees of Seer. The terrorist organization the Mutanimals have just managed to assassinate our boss. As vice chairman of Seer, I am now the new chief executive of Seer. You will stand by for further instruction.”

He long waited for this moment, all this time of serving under the thumb of someone short sighted. Now he could achieve the real vision of Seer, the real purpose that had been long hidden and denied from his superior. He would steer the world towards something better, even if it would have to be from an operation in a bought-out elementary school.

He gazed through the blood carnage, wiping up his own bloodied hands.

“Fuck,” he muttered, “I let the anxious one escape.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry bout the wait, gonna try updating consistently again!


	8. Terminal Brake

A van is not built for racing, no matter how much someone insists it’s an upgrade. Sally knew this before. Crosses knew this before. They both know this now. Sally knew from the start that this race was a set up for her to lose or be killed. It was dangerous, yes. But the one thing she knew, more certain than night and day, that she was a good driver. The skill to pilot and hunk of metal could have been imprinted on her for all she knew. But if anyone would rescue Lindsey and stop this madness it was her and her driving.

She continued to assure herself this as the lines of the road were the only thing flashing by her high beams. That and the streak of the sports car. She braced herself as the car scraped a hunk out of the side again. Crosses was more than a maniac with a thirst for velocity, he has the know how to modify his sports car to be a sleek assault vehicle. And assault it did on her van. She jolted, slamming into her seat.

“--nf! Damn crazy Crosses...” she muttered to herself, “Come on baby, you better have some tricks in you or we’re both gonna end up in a ditch upside down.”

She turned the wheel, making an evasive serpentine maneuver. Yet Crosses seemed to match her swerve for swerve, curve for curve. She grit her teeth. She couldn’t see his face in the car, but like she saw before she could only imagine a much more enthusiastic version of the grin he had from earlier, like the grill of his shiny red car. Metal and carnivorous. She could feel everything lurch forward this time. It took everything she had to spin the wheel to get the van reoriented to the ground. She felt the cool air hitting her back.

Looking behind her she remarked, “...well there goes the door.” The middle door had flown off its hinge, off into the frozen void of rural night.

The wind bit at her back, even with the a/c turned up exceptionally high. The several impacts must have affected Crosses just as hard, any experienced driver knows this. But the fact Crosses persists on ramming his car means one thing: this man didn’t care about living or dying. 

A man with no value to his life who held his own life as a bargaining tool over Lindsey? This was bad. This wasn’t about winning any race now. This was about stopping that car by any means while keeping that maniac alive. She jolted in pain as she felt the impact of the car again.

She braced herself as she smashed a window on the passenger’s side, glass shards flying everywhere. Quickly she had to gather the bigger shards. Rolling down the window, she would have to try taking her shot at the wheel, hoping the impact is sharp enough to deflate it. 

Shifting gears, she slows down to drop behind Crosses. The change in speed must have surprised him for a moment for he stopped for one moment...before revving the engine and speeding right for her. 

 

Steady...steady...she raised the shard before casting it forward—she cursed herself. It was a clear miss. She was no ninja. And now she saw Crosses coming closer than before. There was no time to turn. Instead, Sally shifted gears and slammed it into reverse. She only hoped no one would show up on these roads.

For the first time in her high beams she got a good look at Crosses: hunched over his wheel hands gripping it with a strangler’s strength. He wore a helmet bearing an X right over his face. The light made his deranged grimace clear in the night. She could almost see his lips telegraphing coward. Do it.

But she couldn’t kill him. Not while Lindsey was in that cursed place. But with this pace and the consistency of shards there was no way she could get those tires deflated. No...no other way...unless. The engines. With a hard enough impact from the crash she could bring the engines to a stop. However, there’s the risk of Crosses flying out his windshield...unless...something or someone came into his path in time. 

She sighed, removing the seat belt. She raised one leg, smashing the glass as she sped backwards until it scattered all over the front and she could feel the wind on her face. She could see the confusion on Crosses face. Sighing she braced herself as she held up her hands and slammed on the brakes.

The seconds after were super compressed beyond her memory to hold in. She could only remember the huge catastrophic noise of two cars colliding and the very hard thud of her body against the glass, the windshield cracking it. She hurt. It was agonizing all over but, both cars had stopped. 

She peeled herself off the car, laughing. God it kind of hurt to laugh. Crosses shakily came out the driver’s seat, pushing several airbags aside.

“You—you--what the hell are you doing?! You wrecked my car! You stupid beast!”

This was different from the cool and smug Crosses she met before. She dragged herself up. Good. She approached him, “Looks like the race is over.”

“No! We’re going to finish or your human pet is a drug mule for the rest of her life--” he cried out in pain. Unlikely for the usually calm and collected Crosses. It must be because Sally put a death grip on his arm.

“You can still live without an arm,” she said, applying more pressure, “It hurts, but you’ll live. We can walk back together in one piece or you can have another race where I find another way to strafe your tacky pieces of garbage, along with every bone you got. What’s it gonna be, Crosses?”


	9. I Ain't Here to Break Ya

Mondo Gecko remained where he was in the last few minutes: beneath an auditorium chair, invisible and listening as the footsteps came closer.

 

“How long is the boss gonna keep us guarding this room? This is where they hold talent shows.”

 

The other voice shushed, “Listen.”

 

Quiet.

 

Mondo covered his mouth, eyes pacing back and forth.

 

“What the hell did that sound like to you?”  
  
“Uh...AC?”  
  
“Sounded like breathing.”  
  
Mondo’s eyes widened, his hands clamped tight over his mouth.

 

“Maybe it’s a mouse.”

 

There was the heavy click of chambers sliding, “It’s something big. One of those freaks is hiding.” There was a pause before the voice turned maliciously playful, “Yeah, you heard me. You’re hiding. Thought I was bugging out when I saw the air get fucked like that. Like it was gasoline or heat. But you’re here.”  
  
Mondo’s heart beat hard. What to do what to do? They would get closer and they’d find him but if he moved they’d definitely find him.

 

His ears became temporarily filled with a thunderous noise as one of the seats exploded into fabric.

 

“Hey what the hell you doing? What if it...ricochets and hits us, you know?”

 

“It won’t. Fuck I wish the boss would give us something semi-automatic.” His ears blew up with deafening sound again, their voices coming in softer, “...easier that’s for sure.”

 

Something louder than their voices came on, a voice unfamiliar to Mondo Gecko. It was on the intercom as it told them that the boss was assassinated by one of the Mutanimals. If that sounded like any of them it would be Hob. They came here to do business but if the job went south then Hob did what he had to do.

 

“That porcupine thing can talk?”  
  
“Shit he’s boss? Great.”  
  
“So what does that mean? ‘Stand by for further instructions’?”

 

“Means we keep searching out this ghost till I get them between the eyes,” there was that playful tone, the voice was telling Mondo ‘yes that’s you alright’.

 

Mondo had no choice. He had to run. Fast. He clenched his fists, swallowing as he knew that this might be the last.

 

As he got up to run, he heard a voice he definitely knew.

 

“Hi! I’m Pete!”

 

Mondo raised his head to see the two guards and Pigeon Pete, coming right through the door before them. They were raising their guns.

 

“You’re a dead asshole is what you are.”

 

This was the lizard’s chance. Moving fast he leaped to grab one of the guard’s arms. Before they could react he bit down hard. The guard yelled anguished as the gun fell. Mondo Gecko grabbed it, pointing it at the other man’s crotch.

 

“No but you just might be whole a-hole if you don’t drop the gun, dude.” he pushed the barrel in.

 

The guard dropped it. Mondo sighed, “Kick it to the bird.”  
  
“Are you serious?”  
  
“Kick it like you’re back on your mom’s porch or else.”

 

The gun slid up the aisle to Pete’s hands. Gleeful, Pete raised a pistol, “I have a gun now!”  
  
“Yep that’s right! Alright, later losers!”

 

No this wasn’t going to be a peaceful parting. The more sadistic guard lunged towards Mondo Gecko, hoping to pile drive him into the ground. But Mondo wasn’t going to go down like that. Instead he whirled fast to let his tail slap the guard hard across the nose. It doesn’t matter how tough or sadistic one is, when a nose gets hit with something with a lot of muscle power, it will make anyone crumple up. Which is what the sadist guard did.

 

Mondo Gecko rushed out, dragging Pete along with him, “Peace!”

 

The lizard was dismantling the weapon as they ran down the hall, “Can’t say I expected you to save my skin bro, but I’ll take it. Where you been hanging?”

 

“Uhhh….somewhere!” Pete bobbed his head, “Doctor was real nice!”

 

“Yeah as if,” scoffed Mondo, “So uh...not to be a bummer or anything but we’re the only ones out and about. Do we know where—you know, I’m gonna stop myself. We don’t know anything.”

 

“We know I am Pete?” he suggested unhelpfully.

 

“Yeah there’s that,” he said patiently, ruffling his feathers. They only made it so far down the main hall, who knew who would be around the corner. Everyone was on high alert, especially after the main boss died.

  
Such thoughts came to a stop when they heard something coming from one of the derelict rooms, now nothing but a whiteboard and a table.

 

He heard that muffled sound. Mondo came beneath the dimmed flourescent where it originated. It was pounding. A soft, but sure pounding with the sound of grunting. Familiar grunting.

 

Mondo glanced back and forth, mentally wringing his brain, anxious to be avoided. He prepared himself to whisper up when Pete said his normal loud volume, “Hi! What’s up there?”  
  
The noise stopped. Mondo grew uneasy as he heard some shuffling. Then a voice, “Pete? How the hell did you get down there?”  
  
“I have a gun!”  
  
“Hob?” asked Mondo. It was definitely him. He was sure of it, “How’s it hanging dude?”

 

“All of us are gonna be hanging by our necks if we don’t get out soon.”

 

“Yeah uh no kidding,” Mondo shot back, “You did kill their leader.”

 

“Ok ok what makes you think I did that?”  
  
“I mean, it’s kind of your thing dude. I’m not harshing on you, I’m just letting you know everyone’s on us big time now.”  
  
“What? You—you think—what—that,” Hob sputtered before another voice cut in.

 

“He didn’t kill him, Mondo. Hob has barely recovered from his own injuries and right now—nnf!!” another slam.

 

“Wait...Man Ray...are you….you two...” he thought this over, “Are you dudes stuck?”  
  
“Yeah no shit.”  
  
“We’ve been trying to break through the floor since outside right now is a patrol of several guards.”

 

Mondo stroked at his frill as he continued to think, “Well...uh...seems hard we….we have a gun...could that help.”

 

Quiet ensued.

 

Man Ray cut in, “If we shoot enough holes in the ceiling...there is a chance it could cause that part of the ceiling to give in. But it’ll be loud enough to attract attention so we’ll have to be fast. Are you ready?”  
  
The lizard nodded to Pete, “Think you can shoot...up there?” he pointed to where some cracks had appeared above the flourescent.

 

Pete nodded.

 

Mondo called up, “Alright, ready dudes!”  


“Go.”

  
It was quick. It was also sloppy. Pete began firing wildly into the ceiling, The sound echoed like a massive boom-quake throughout the whole room and even beyond.

 

When it was done, the whole bit of ceiling had become rubble. More noise ensued as Man Ray grunted, thudding until the ceiling gave way, allowing for both him and Hob to come in for a hard landing right against the tiled floor. Hob grinned, finding he had rolled over on top of Man Ray.

 

“Come on, dudes! We gotta go!”  
  
“Yeah I know what we’re in for, no need to push me….” the cat grumbled, Man Ray helping him up as the group rushed out the door.

 

“Do any of you know what happened to Sally? Or Lindsey? Or Seymour?” Man Ray asked, “We haven’t heard good or bad of them.”  
  
“No clue,” Mondo shook his head, all of them moving faster as they heard the gangsters making a noisy search.

 

The feline leader leaned on Man Ray for support, hopping along. For a small center, the hallways remained confusing.

 

“Scout for us, Mondo.” whispered Man Ray.

 

Mondo saluted, “Got it.” He vanished, moving down the hallway before they heard a loud clatter and shout.

 

The eyepatched cat shook his head, letting his head rest on Man Ray’s shoulder. “Ah great.”  
  
“Yo guys!” the lizard shouted, “Check it out! There’s a whole garage in here!”  
  
“Anyone out there?” asked Hob.

 

A pause, “...no?”  
  
He snorted, sighing, “Are you sure?”

 

“Positive, dude!”

 

“Alright...” Hob groped Man Ray onward. The aquatic mutant jolted.

 

“Um...what was--”

 

“Let’s go, you’re carrying me.”  
  
Man Ray glanced at the grizzled cat, dumbfounded written in his eyes before he moved again, “Affirmative on that.”  
  
Pete was the first to get through the garage, loudly asking for Mondo. The lizard appeared beside the bird, noogie-ing him, “Right here, duh!”

 

“Look at all these vehicles...” Man Ray observed, “They have such expert modifications...”  
  
“Yeah they have enough armor to take down a tank, I’d say,” snorted Hob.  
  
At the moment all four stepped in several gun chambers had clicked, footsteps moving subtly over the concrete.

 

“What’d I say about being sure?!” growled Hob at Mondo.

 

“Stop worrying about yourselves,” one masked thug said, “Worry about your friend.”

 

Lindsey was pushed to the throng of the crowd, “Guys! You’re alive!” she looked wiped out, “I didn’t have anything to do with their plans…it’s just between me and Sally.”  
  
“Sally?” Man Ray quirked a brow, “Lindsey, what’s happening?”  
  
The thug cut them off, “Well Crosses isn’t here. The terms of our deal still stands...” A gun pointed at her head.

 

“You know there’s nothing that’s gonna stop me from ripping out your throat if you do it,” said Hob.

 

“No, we’ll just beat you within an inch of your life again,” the other thugs burst out laughing, “Only this time our new boss won’t bring you back to life...”

 

“No, but this might make you consider it,” Sally threw Crosses to the ground, her foot on the man’s back, “Let Lindsey go.”  
  
“Crosses?!That wasn’t the deal!” snarled the thug.

 

“Enough about deals! I—Hob? Man Ray? Pete? What’s going on?”  
  
“Trying to solve the same problem, apparently,” said Man Ray.

 

“You forgot Mondo!” said Pete.

 

The thug gave a surprised cry when he found himself slammed to the ground, away from Lindsey. The human ran to the Mutanimals’ side. Mondo appeared, sitting on the thug’s chest, “No, they didn’t forget me. I just ran off.” He vanished, “And here I go again!”  
  
“SHOOT! Shoot now!” barked the thug.

 

“WAIT!” shouted back Sally, now holding Crosses by the throat, “I still got a hostage...”

 

“God, you annoy me….” wheezed Crosses, “I’m billing you for the car….”  
  
“Bill me for your dead body while your at it,” she hissed, “I’ll make good on that if you don’t clear this garage. Now.”

 

No movement, only guns trained on Sally. She tightened her grip, lifting Crosses by her choking hand. He dangled wildly, flailing, “Do it! Do it! Leave!” He motioned evacuate.

Reluctant, the thugs vacated the garage, Sally following closely behind. Once outside, she tossed Crosses, all bloodied and wet, to the thugs, “Treat him, he has some injuries.”

 

Quickly she slammed and locked the doors. The rest followed suit. Mondo closed the main garage door, locking it tight. She could hear Crosses weakly pounding on the door, “I’ll make you into roadkill! You ruined my car! You ruined my car!!!”

 

She sighed, slumping against one of the vans. Man Ray opened it to let both her and Hob rest, “You look bad, Sally.”  
  
“Thanks. Can’t help how I look after going through the guy’s window. Can someone update me?”

 

Lindsey rushed over to Sally’s side, hugging her tight, “I was afraid I was gonna lose you...”  
  
“Ow ow ow….I was afraid too...but please...not so tight...”  
  
“Right,” Lindsey was trying to calm herself down, “About what’s been going on. The head of Seer is dead.”  
  
She blinked, “Isn’t that a good thing?”  
  
“His boss is that way bad spiky hombre,” Mondo said, “The one that put the hurt on Hob.”

 

“...him.” she tried getting up, “What does that guy want to do with Seer that was enough to make him kill his boss?”  
  
Isn’t it obvious?” asked Hob, “He’s rebelling. He’s not playing by the humie rules. It’s just that he doesn’t want to be on our side, you know like that big alligator mutant. I say we just let him be. He’s one of us.”

 

“Hob if he’s still sending people after us, then shouldn’t it be clear that there’s something he wants from Seer? And we’re standing in the way of that? What if that’s bad, Hob?” the marine mammal held his hand.

 

Hob pulled back, “So we leave! Let’s pack one of these vans and go home! You can stills drive!”  
  
“But...” Mondo interjected, “What about Seymour?”  
  
“What about him?”  
  
“We haven’t seen him,” Lindsey appeared forlorn, “...I can’t leave. Seer will kill him or worse.”

 

“So the plan’s...what?” Hob snarled, “Because I’m done making plans today.”  
  
“Good,” huffed Sally, “You’re not the leader.”

 

“And you are?”  
  
“...I think so.” Mondo said.

 

“I think she is,” Pete affirmed.

 

Hob laughed, “Well there’s your vote. Two runts of the cre—hey, what are you doing?!”  
  
Man Ray lifted him up, towards another van before firmly seating him and buckling him up, “In a few more minutes, I’ll be able to leave.”  
  
“Excellent opportunity for you to listen,” Man Ray sat by him. “Damn you, why can’t you do the right thing for once?”

 

“I am doing the right thing. For the Mutanimals.”  
  
“And leaving Seymour is right for them?”

 

Hob went tight-lipped. Man Ray turned on the radio, to avoid anyone else listening in, “Tell me what this is about, Hob. You’ve shut me out all day and I’m unsure how I deserve it.”  
  
“You...you haven’t deserved it...” his fingers were walking up Man Ray’s massive forearm as he looked away, “We just got to leave. I don’t got it in me.”  
  
Man Ray slowly caught that hand, letting one big thumb caress Hob’s worn out knuckles, “Don’t have what, may I ask?”  
  
“Don’t got it in me to drag the rest of you in a fight. I can do it alone...but…Slash being gone was bad enough. What happens when I watch the rest of you….”

 

Man Ray sighed. It was so rare to see Hob disarmed like this, it was less soft and more like an exposed nerve. It required surgical precision. Man Ray held his hand in both hands, “You won’t need to watch anyone else die. We’ll be smart. And if we can’t be smart, we’ll be adaptable. That’s what being a mutant is.”  
  
Hob laughed, “Alright. Shut up. Come sit next to me for a spell. But that big head over here.” Man Ray obliged, letting the cat stroke his head, his head fins. “Your head is so smooth. Ever mention how smooth it is?”

 

Man Ray smiled, shaking his head, “No...you’re the first.”  
  
“Damn right I’m the first...” his ears perked when he turned up the radio, “I don’t even know why I like this song but...” He bobbed his head out of rhythm, crooning in a cracked falsetto, “’ _I wanna make it. I wanna make it with 'chu. Anytime, anywhere_...’”

 

The big aquatic mutant chuckled, “I didn’t know you sang.”  
  
“And you’re the only one,” he scratched under Man Ray’s chin, “So shut up.” He continued, “’ _These mysteries of life...they just ain’t my thing_...’”

 

Sally watched the closed van, Lindsey looking just as amused as her. The human piped up, “Think Man Ray is talking him down?”  
  
“That or he’s restraining him. Either way, it’s time to make a plan. Those locks won’t hold. We need to get Seymour back. Being quiet was our friend, but now? Now we need to play it loud, have them coming for us. It’s time to stop this whole Seer right here in Buffalo.”

 

Lindsey watched, enraptured by her talking, her strength, her strategy, “It’s going to be tough...it’ll take everyone...but before we set plans in motion, I have a question to ask you Sally.”  
  
“Yeah, what’s that?”  
  
“Have…any of the mutants ever talked about dating? Dating humans?”

 

Sally felt her brain scramble about in her head, “...I’ll get back to you.”

 

Lindsey began running off from the van, “Yeah you know what? I’ll get back to you too.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, that's a long time without an update, but Im determined to finish this. The song on the radio was Make it Wit 'Chu by Queens of the Stone Age. Hope you enjoy!

**Author's Note:**

> Can you believe there's almost no fics with the Mutanimals? Well yeah, this is the first chapter in a multi-chapter story which is kind of inspired by the Warriors and Escape from New York in terms of tone, I hope you enjoy!


End file.
